The Break-In
by KittykatMC
Summary: When Jamie is left alone one night, a mysterious stranger decides to keep him company. Can Jamie handle himself or is he just a runt of the Reagan litter? (Written as requested by jessieklove)


Well, hey guys! Someone requested a brotherly love fic where this scene basically happens. I literally wrote it in between classes so excuse me if it seems a little rushed. It's another angsty teen Jamie fic!

Enjoy and please tell me what you think! x

_**August 5**__**th**____**1997**_

Fourteen year old Jamie Reagan slammed his Chemistry textbook shut and practically hurled it across the room.

"I'm so done with this!" He muttered, running a hand through his sandy hair in agitation. It wasn't fair. Everyone else was at the Simmons's barbecue down the road, but just because he screwed up once – once – in school, he was grounded.

He brings home perfect grades. He barely knows where the detention room is. His teachers love him. Everyone loves him. He made the catastrophic mistake of standing guard while Timmy Tate filled the lockers with paint spray bombs, and now he was regarded as an 'accomplice.' Well, that's what his Dad had called him. And Danny, right after he'd stopped howling with laughter at Jamie's failed attempt.

His mother was royally pissed off, so much so, she couldn't even speak to him. So much for her perfect child, Jamie thought bitterly. He shuffled to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich and procrastinate some more. Only Erin and Joe were actually on his side. They tried to plead his case to their parents so he could come out – his Dad almost gave in, until Ma stuck her foot in it! As per usual!

Jamie peered into the fridge. Nothing much to eat in there. A bit of leftover ham, some swiss cheese and of course the meat for Sunday dinner. Clearly Danny's eaten most of the food.

They didn't even think to leave food for him. He could starve to death! They'd come back and find him lying on the kitchen floor, clutching his stomach in agony.

The door rustled.

Jamie glanced over the fridge. "Hello?" He called out, slightly irritated. "Ma? Dad?"

Silence.

"Danny? Joe? Erin?"

Silence.

He counted on his fingers, nope, that was the lot of them. Jamie shrugged and grabbed a few random contents out of the fridge, including the cheese and ham. He balanced the ingredients under his chin and hobbled to the island, dumping everything onto the worktop. Jamie snatched a knife from the drawer and began slicing his bread.

Footsteps padded upstairs.

Jamie's hand involuntarily tightened around the knife. Call it…intuition. His stomach clenched. "Hello?" He called out again, this time his voice trembled. His parents room was above the kitchen. "Ma, Dad? You home?"

The footsteps quickly ran across the ceiling.

Jamie's mouth ran dry. Clutching the pathetic butter knife, he tiptoed into the hallway. A light gust of wind ruffled his hair. Jamie's eyes snapped toward the door. It was wide open, delicately bouncing off its hinges in the breeze.

Panic gripped his body. Jamie stood rooted to the spot, unsure of his next move.

Run.

The voice screamed at him from inside his head. Run down the mother-friggin road and get your entire family. Your family of cops!

But what if it was nothing? What if it was one of them, and they'd left the door open by mistake? He'd be dragging them away from the party for nothing. And his parents might see this as a cheap ploy to get out of the house. And cause more trouble.

Jamie sighed, trudging to the door. He shut it, but didn't lock it. Still keeping the knife, tucked into his pocket, he climbed the stairs.

A noise thumped in Danny's room. Jamie paused on the middle stair. Oh. Danny's home, he should've guessed. His feet are always stomping about the place. He jogged up the rest of the stairs and turned into Danny's room.

"Danny what are you -?"

Jamie halted beside the door. His hand slipped into his pocket and he drew out the knife. A man, maybe in his mid-twenties was standing in Danny's room, shoving his sports trophies into a black sack. He had a thick jagged scar streaked down his left cheek and white paint smeared all over his overalls. He stopped when Jamie entered. His wiry face cracked a smirk, his eyes travelling to the butter knife now shaking in Jamie's hand.

"What'cha gonna do with that kid?" The man challenged, "Spread me to death?"

"Don't test me." Jamie countered, surprised at his sudden surge of courage. He wanted to run. He wanted to turn right back around and run out of the door, screaming down the streets. But he didn't. And he couldn't.

He had the blue blood pumping through his veins.

The man laughed and edged closer toward Jamie. The fourteen year old backed away, still brandishing the knife. "Hey! Back up!" He yelled.

The man simply grabbed Jamie's wrist and twisted it around, so hard, he cried out in unbearable, searing pain. He thought he heard his bone crack. Jamie's hand opened on the knife, it fell to the floor with a clatter. The man pushed Jamie against the wall and picked up the knife.

"Mine now." He grinned, his teeth yellow and stained. Jamie cringed against the wall, rubbing his smarting wrist. Yep, it was definitely broken. Tears slipped from his eyes, he brushed them away with his shoulder. He couldn't show weakness. That's what Danny would say.

Danny.

Joe.

Where were his brothers when he needed them?  
And his Dad? Where was he now? The man kicked Jamie twice. Jamie scampered into the corner and huddled into a ball, covering his face, his head, anything that might show vulnerability. He wished his brothers, his father were here.

The man turned his back on Jamie and started to head down the stairs. Jamie couldn't let him go. With one final effort, he used his remaining strength to send out a savage kick – his leg shot out, catching the man in the leg. He cried out in surprise and cursed, tumbling down the stairs.

Jamie peeped over the bannister; the man was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Motionless.

I've killed the son of a bitch, Jamie thought anxiously. A sharp pain shot up his stomach when he moved. His ribs. They're broken too.

A key scraped in the lock, the door barrelled open. Jamie glimpsed Danny stumble into the house. A smile of relief spread across his face.

He was saved.

"Jamie!" Danny yelled, his voice riddled with fear, "Kid!"

"Danny, I'm up here!" Jamie hollered back, "I can't move – he – I can't move."

"Hold on kid." Danny scrambled up the stairs, he took one look at his kid brother curled in the corner and he dropped to his knees. He crawled to Jamie and pulled him into a gentle embrace. "It's okay kid. You're safe now."

Voices filled the hallway. The screech of police sirens and his mother's frantic voice. Downstairs, the man was beginning to stir.

"Danny how did you know…?"

"Mrs Harris across the street. She saw someone entering into our house – who wasn't one of us. It took her a while but she came and found us."

Joe trundled up the stairs, his face a mask of worry. He knelt beside Jamie, a gun nestled securely in his fingers. "Danny, you found him. Thank God." He pulled Jamie into a hug. Jamie cried out in pain.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked, both brothers staring at Jamie in alarm.

Jamie sighed and retold the whole night's events. Danny gripped his brother's shoulder through the worst of it.

"Jamie we're gonna have to get you checked out." Joe said, tenderly examining Jamie's wrist. "There's a bus waiting outside to take you to the hospital."

Jamie nodded. "Where are the others?"

"Talking to the cops outside." Joe replied, "They're dying to see you."

Danny's eyes narrowed, he glowered over the bannister at the man now being hauled up by two cops. They slapped a pair of cuffs on him. "I'm gonna kill him." Danny growled.

"It's done now Danny." Jamie said, always calming his brother down. "I handled it."

Danny shot him a look of appreciation and respect. "You did didn't you? Well, I will never underestimate you again kid. I promise you."

Jamie laughed in disbelief, "Yeah? How many times have I heard that one before?"

**_End._**


End file.
